I spent the last three hours, thinking, thinking very hard, about how I should write this lab report.
I'm not very proud to say that I haven't progressed much, apart from stating the obvious, such as...reporting the results of the study. I don't even know if I'm doing this right, just reporting the results alone...I've used 450 words? I don't know if this is meant to be normal; it seems a little bit much to me. Well, considering I have nothing better to discuss...
Anyway, in other news. No one will ever believe what I did today! I'm just glad he didn't turn out to be a psychopath, in fact he was quite accomodating considering I dragged him into weird places like the korean grocery. I can see the disapproving looks of S/JL. I love going to the korean grocery though, somehow, I feel very at home. It calms my nerves. Yeah, I'm just talking shit now, obviously.
Okay, I didn't have a point in blogging. I just need to remember to submit my lab report next week, as well as the french poem review. Speaking of which...I can't decide if writing a poem is worse or reviewing one. I have no idea what to say about the poem I've been given apart from, "it's nice". Or something along those lines. I wish they used some form of rondel/sonnet/alexandrin format though so I could at least talk about that. Now it's just random. Maybe I'll talk about my feelings. LOL.
My hair is finally starting to grow out (not that you really can tell in this picture)...
I can't believe it's 9:30pm, already. It doesn't feel like a whole day has gone past. Make that two whole days, and a half...since I haven't done anything I was supposed to do since thursday evening. I'm terribly distressed, I don't know where all my time has gone. There are readings a-plenty to be done.
Hung out with Jinli and Sasha last night and the whole of today. It's fun to just sit around and talk, or just sit around in silence and forget about everything else for a moment. It really felt refreshing today sitting at St Kilda and doing nothing apart from stuffing our faces with a tub of ice cream and playing cards.
You're the only one I want to talk to, but you won't even look my way. It's ruining all my other friendships; I can hardly focus on talking to others. I guess it isn't really that bad, but it's affecting me in ways I wish it wouldn't.
In other news, I've got suprapatellar bursitis. Like, omg, right? These things always happen to me. I just want it to go away as soon as possible.
As soon as possible. It's week 4. I'm glad I'm done with the poem for french. It was a real pain, though I guess I am pretty amazed at what we have come up with. I was very skeptical about this whole poetry thing. I mean, my friend and I sat together and for about 30 minutes we had absolutely no idea where or how to start. I'm just relieved it all came nicely together, or I hope it did.
Aaron, post more covers on your tumblr lol! And I really miss having you around. I seriously have not met any "friends" since you left. :O But on the bright side, I'm getting used to this solitaire style living. Solitaire, single in french. Speaking of which, french poem. I close my eyes and I hear myself repeating all the sounds I can conjure in order to make words rhyme.
Jinli thinks the poem is brilliant, but...according to Paul Giffard-Foret, it needs a little something more, like an oomph. Currently, I'm trying to fix the very last stanza. It's just doing my head in. To change to an alexandrin or to not?
We've got this:
"La mort arrive tranquillement à cette vie,
Soudaine et sublime, née d’une nuit sans lune.
Enterrée avec les morts, j’ai réussi.
Perdu finalement dans l’embrasse de la tombe…"
Thing is lune and tombe do not rhyme. And right now it's got no structure seeing as lune and tombe do not rhyme so there isn't an ABAB (rhyme pattern), neither is it an alexandrin or any other sort of octosyllabes (it's basically the number of syllables in each line, the most common form being the alexandrin which is 12 syallables per line). Bottomline is, I'm stuck! So I tried turning it into an alexandrin,
"La mort arrive tranquillement à cette vie, chacune
Soudaine et sublime, toutes sont née d’une nuit sans lune.
Enterrée avec les morts, dans la catacombe,
et perdu finalement dans l’embrasse de la tombe…"
Yeah that works in terms of rhyme (AABB) and structure (alexandrin) but it makes no sense. Death comes quietly in this life, each, sudden and sublime, all are born of a moonless night. When it's meant to be, "death comes quietly in this life, sudden and sublime, out of a moonless night.", without all the each and all -.-
I've lost track of the number of days since I last felt I needed to talk to you.
Perhaps I've gone a whole week and only spoke to you once?
I think I'm going to be alright. Though, today, that same strong emotion came up within me, where I really just want to hate on this because it's so unfair that things have to be this way. Well, what really is fair anyway?
Sometimes it seems like everything good in my life eventually leaves.
Honestly? I hate that somehow, for reasons unknown, I'm just not someone you would need. Things just work in funny ways. Terribly heartwrenching. Stupid, that four years ago, I said I would never talk about it again, yet thought about it for months after...and now, it comes back ALMOST LIKE IT WANTS TO HAUNT ME! It's so ridiculous, nobody even knows.
I feel like a disappointment. I should be able to be stronger. It seems like I need you to be there for me even though you aren't doing too well yourself. When I should be the one who's strong and helping you sort out what you have to. When you're the one who is really going through a bad time of having to leave.
But I'm just here, unable to say what I need to say and unable to be who I should be.
It is quite difficult to imagine that whenever I encounter that circle of friends, I won't be seeing that most welcoming face of yours with the weirdest goofy smile anymore.
Maybe people might think I don't care just because I don't talk about it or say that I do care about it...but they don't know that the hardest things to talk about are the things that are impossible to change and that will hurt you the most.
Thursdays are always the worst days at uni...has been so for the past five semesters and this sem is not different. It's the two hour lecture at the start that really kills me. Two hour lectures are the stupidest thing ever...and all my lectres this semester are two hour ones. Doesn help that my lecturer isn't exactly interesting to listen to. Yeah, I'm complaining about it, so what? I need a break from this and it's only week two. The group of "mothers" aren't exactly a breeze to work with either...nothing's really going right this semester. I'm startng to regret switching from psychopathology to developmental psych. I'm not learning shit in devel and I spend my lectures on whatsapp and doodling. It's just Piaget and vygotsky all the time and a repeat of year two (which I hated). Should I switch back to psychopathology :S or maybe drop French and pick up psychopathology instead. Omg. I just can't decide. French just isn't...i think I'm gonna do badly for it and I'm not just saying it. Maybe there might be a miracle. For now, I'm still undecided on whether I should enrol in psychopathology.
Is it so hard to make one decision?!
I've got this feeling I'm gonna regret taking developmental psych instead of psychopathology. The saddest part is that I actually can't be bothered to do anything about it.
I was thinking about you, and how I said I wouldn't. I haven't mentioned your name to anyone in forever and I'm about to die. I have no better words.
Yeah obviously, I'm not going to die. What a friend said on twitter made me think, why would I care so much about someone who doesn't want anything to do with me. Or at least, appears not to want anything to do with me.
Everytime I almost stop thinking about you, you reach out to me again before disappearing. I hate how you keep disappearing, if you don't want me to talk to you just say it. You're making me go crazy. I need to wake up from this.
Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we made different choices back then. If you didn't choose to leave, if I had been more brave to ask. 4 years later? Things will still be the same. I still dare not ask, and you chose to leave again. Maybe someday I'l let you in and we'll both laugh about it. For now, this ache is getting quite unbearable.
